Маленький принц / The Little Prince
«Маленький принц» — одно из самых известных и до сих пор любимых читателем произведений французского писателя Антуана де Сент-Экзюпери. Эта небольшая повесть-сказка переведена практически на все языки мира, а общий тираж изданий по всему миру превысил к настоящему времени 80 миллионов экземпляров.
Текст сопровождается упражнениями на понимание прочитанного, комментариями и словарем, облегчающим чтение.
Предназначается для продолжающих изучать английский язык нижней ступени (уровень 2 — Pre-Intermediate).
Текст сопровождается упражнениями на понимание прочитанного, комментариями и словарем, облегчающим чтение.
Предназначается для продолжающих изучать английский язык нижней ступени (уровень 2 — Pre-Intermediate).
Пікірлер10
👍Ұсынамын
💧Көз жасын төктіреді
Вчера прочитала еще раз.Впечатления такие же, как в первый раз когда-то в далеком детстве. Может даже глубже осознаешь смысл прочитанного. И так же слезы на глазах ...
Дәйексөздер474
Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to explain things to them all the time.
I soon knew this flower better. On the little prince’s planet flowers were very simple. They had only one ring of petals; they were a trouble to nobody. One morning they appeared in the grass, and at night they faded away peacefully. But one day, from a seed, a new flower came up; and the small sprout was not like any other small sprouts on his planet.
The shrub soon stopped to grow, and began to produce a flower. And the flower was preparing her beauty in the shelter of her green chamber. She chose her colours with the greatest care. She dressed herself slowly. She adjusted her petals one by one. She wished to appear in the full radiance of her beauty. Oh, yes! She was a coquettish creature!
Then one morning, exactly at sunrise, she suddenly showed herself. She yawned and said:
“Ah! I am scarcely awake. I think that you will excuse me. My petals are still all disarranged.”
But the little prince could not restrain his admiration:
“Oh! How beautiful you are!”
“Am I not?” the flower responded, sweetly. “And I was born at the same moment as the sun.”
The little prince guessed easily that she was not very modest. But how exciting she was!
“I think it is time for breakfast,” she added an instant later.
And the little prince, completely abashed, brought a sprinkling-can[17] of fresh water. So, he watered the flower.
So, too, she began very quickly to torment him with her vanity. One day, for instance, when she was speaking of her four thorns, she said to the little prince:
“Let the tigers come with their claws!”
“There are no tigers on my planet,” the little prince objected. “And, anyway, tigers do not eat weeds.”
“I am not a weed,” the flower replied, sweetly.
“Please excuse me.”
“I am not at all afraid of tigers,” she went on, “but I have a horror of drafts[18]. I suppose you have a screen for me?”
“A horror of drafts—that is bad luck, for a plant,” remarked the little prince, and added to himself, “This flower is a very complex creature.”
The shrub soon stopped to grow, and began to produce a flower. And the flower was preparing her beauty in the shelter of her green chamber. She chose her colours with the greatest care. She dressed herself slowly. She adjusted her petals one by one. She wished to appear in the full radiance of her beauty. Oh, yes! She was a coquettish creature!
Then one morning, exactly at sunrise, she suddenly showed herself. She yawned and said:
“Ah! I am scarcely awake. I think that you will excuse me. My petals are still all disarranged.”
But the little prince could not restrain his admiration:
“Oh! How beautiful you are!”
“Am I not?” the flower responded, sweetly. “And I was born at the same moment as the sun.”
The little prince guessed easily that she was not very modest. But how exciting she was!
“I think it is time for breakfast,” she added an instant later.
And the little prince, completely abashed, brought a sprinkling-can[17] of fresh water. So, he watered the flower.
So, too, she began very quickly to torment him with her vanity. One day, for instance, when she was speaking of her four thorns, she said to the little prince:
“Let the tigers come with their claws!”
“There are no tigers on my planet,” the little prince objected. “And, anyway, tigers do not eat weeds.”
“I am not a weed,” the flower replied, sweetly.
“Please excuse me.”
“I am not at all afraid of tigers,” she went on, “but I have a horror of drafts[18]. I suppose you have a screen for me?”
“A horror of drafts—that is bad luck, for a plant,” remarked the little prince, and added to himself, “This flower is a very complex creature.”
